My Life With You
by shouldbstudying
Summary: A collection of fluff. Engagement, first child...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A collection of 'fluff' which is just me getting to write out all of the hopes I had for Lou and Will as a couple.

* * *

It was quiet in the annexe. Quiet and dark. I looked around in surprise to see all of the curtains had been draped shut. The home was lit by candles on the floor, candles on the bench top, candles everywhere. Had there been a power outage? Was Will's chair charged enough to get him through?

"Will?" I called as I put my bag on the kitchen table.

"In here!"

I walked into the living room, half expecting Will to be in a mood due to the darkness but that was the opposite of what I found. The living room had more little tealight candles lighting up the room where hundreds of rose petals decorated the floor and chair. And Will... Will was not in his chair. He was on the couch, his arm lazily draped over the side in a suit that had been tailored to perfect. He looked as if he would have been able to get up and greet me, so comfortable out of his chair, but we both knew the truth. A bottle of champagne had been poured for us in two glasses and a small box sat on the table. I sat beside him, beneath his arm and snuggled into his side, moving his arm to wrap around me and threading my fingers through his. It had become such a routine, to be gently nestled against Will.

"What's all this?" I asked as an amused Will looked at me. He was freshly shaven and smelled wonderful, a cologne I didn't recognise. He had a baby blue shirt beneath his black suit jacket, complimenting his eyes which shone so brightly that night.

"You, Miss Louisa Clark, are wonderful. Do you know that?" he grinned at me. I laughed, kissing his cheek.

"What are you up to, Will Traynor?"

He looked at me innocently, a silent hum of excitement radiating off him. He met my gaze. "I know I can't offer you everything I might have five years ago, Clark... but I'll be damned if I don't give you everything I can." I squeezed his fingers, knowing that reminding him that he wouldn't have given me a second look, let alone loved me, five years ago, would serve of no purpose.

He lifted his hand a little, pointing at the box on the coffee table where the champagne lay. "Open it." I unwrapped myself from Will and picked up the box, coloured a blue velvet. I admired it for a moment, wondering if I'd have any purpose for it in the future. Then I opened it to a ring. I almost fainted.

"Clark," Will grinned at me, almost unsurely. "I promise to stay with you until my last breath, promise to stick with you in health and sickness... I promise to take you on adventures and not be trapped by my chair. I promise you a _good life._ Clark... will you marry me?"

I felt tears drip down my face as I stared at the ring. A golden band with stones decorating the focal point of the ring: a large diamond. I could tell just from the look of it that it had cost more than I'd have made in six months of pay, perhaps even a year. Despite unsure of how I felt about hoisting that rock around all day, I could see it. The life with Will, the rest of my life spent by his side.

He laughed. "Is that a yes? I didn't mean to make you cry..."

I laughed too, shaking my head. "Happy tears, happy tears, I promise. Yes, a million times yes, Will!" I placed the ring carefully on my finger, testing it's weight on my hand, surprised at how natural it felt on my finger.

Will waited a moment before impatience caught him. "Well, let me kiss my fiancee, damn it Clark!"

* * *

Will was not soft. Never had been, never will be. He was logical and to the point and wouldn't spare your feelings if it came to telling the truth. It's almost funny, seeing someone so constantly solid, crumble. When I'd held our son to Will's lap, Will cried. Not in the silent crying way but in the snotty, messy sobbing of somebody who had lost hope so long ago. Someone who had given up the thought of ever having sex, let alone children. And here he was with his son.

I wrapped my arm around Will's shoulder, kissing his cheek.

"We did good," I promised as he looked up at me through misty eyes.

"You make me so happy, Clark," he murmured, quiet enough for only me to hear. I moved Will's arm around the baby's head, helping Will feel the tuft of hair on his baby's head. The little hands of the infant outstretched slightly and grabbed at anything around him: Will's thumb was the first thing he found. He fiddled with Will's thumb, letting out a noise that resembled a gurgle in response. Will laughed, his face a lit. He would be a great father, I knew this as soon as he'd met Thomas for the first time. I was so glad I was able to give him what he deserved.

"What should we name this little guy?" I asked, stroking Will's hair with one hand, and my son's with the other. Will looked up at me, his eyes holding all the gratitude and love in the world. We'd had the name talk so many times over the nine months, coming up with several names that never quite suited. Christian, Lucas, George... Will had scoffed at me when I'd suggest Will Jr. and we came back full circle.

"Noah," Will asked, moving his thumb as much as it could in the baby's hand.

"Noah," I repeated, staring at the child with eyes so perfectly close to Will's. "Perfect."

And so Noah Traynor was born.

* * *

I'd seen Will a lot of things - angry, sad, disappointed, delighted, proud but for the first time, I saw Will determined to improve in his chair. It had begun when Noah had begun walking. Clumsily and eagerly, Noah wanted to climb everywhere and on an afternoon where I had been preoccupied, Noah had fallen and scratched his knee. Will told me he'd felt helpless, completely trapped.

"It could have been so much worse," he whispered to me as I squeezed his hand. That was the day that Will demanded more physio than he'd ever done before, looked into more research on spinal injuries, just _tried_ for the first time since his accident. It was mostly unsuccessful - there had been advances in some areas but most of it seemed out of reach. However Will worked tirelessly in physio.

"He's putting in effort now," Nathan mused at me a week after Noah's injury. "He's motivated. It's... wonderful, Lou. It really is wonderful to see him so determined to improve again."

It took months for any noticeable changes - gradual use of his fingers was the goal. It was around six months into physio that he could lift objects. With limited use of his elbows however, carrying Noah, a hope I could see glaring in Will's eyes, was still out of reach. So came the next goal.

We were expecting a daughter by the time Will had gained use of his elbows (it was tiring and sometimes even painful but he was able to move them with some concentration.) Throughout the pregnancy, Will had been able to move his hand to touch my belly, delighted by the kicks and movements. To see the wonder on his face, the delight, was worth the wait.

And at long last, Will got to hold his son by himself. Noah giggled in his daddy's arms, delighted by the interaction from his father.

"Who's Daddy's favourite little boy?" Will baby talked, blowing raspberries into Noah's cheek.

* * *

Our house was a happy house now with babies crawling and happy grandparents popping in daily to check up on us. It had been ten years since Will's accident and eight since he'd met me. Little Noah was five now and our newborn baby girl, Olivia, had begun crawling and babbling happily. They both clearly had a favourite when in their father's arms. I think children know subconsciously how deeply important their existence was. How it had marked something off in Will's book, that he _could_ be a father, not trapped by wheelchair as he'd assumed. We'd developed a routine now - I look after the children when they started crying in the middle of the night and once Will was seated in his chair, he took the day time with some assistance from some items that helped make this possible - a crib with a button that lowered the wall so Will could reach for Olivia; a small bar fridge low enough that Will could hook his foot into the fridge door to collect a bottle of milk. Noah was mature enough to realise he couldn't run away from his father who clearly couldn't chase after him.

One night had been a particularly hard night with Olivia keeping both of us up - when I'd seen Will still in bed at 11am, I nearly had a heart attack, jumping out of bed. But Nathan was holding little Olivia, who was dressed in a fresh onesie and being bounced on his hip.

"Did you know that your daddy used to ignore your mummy? He's so silly, isn't he, little Ollie?" Nathan pecked her forehead as he took a bottle of milk out of the microwave, testing it on his palm. "And your mummy! You should have seen her when she first walked in - the fashion sense of a child! Well, that hasn't changed much, has it?"

I coughed behind him, raising an eyebrow. Nathan grinned at me. "I let you guys sleep in, no worries. Noah is with Josie on a walk and this little cutie," Nathan paused to make an excited face at her, "is just the the best patient I've ever had! You go back to bed, we're all good."

I gave Nathan a look of appreciation and practically jumped back into bed, snuggling up to Will who opened his eyes groggily.

"Hey handsome," I murmured, pulling Will into a more comfortable position from the position he'd slept in. He smiled at me, his body faced towards me on his side.

"Well, aren't you cheery so early in the - oh, what time is it, Clark? Did I sleep in? I'm sorry - fetch Nathan will you?" Stress marked Will's face and I reached the stroke his face, shaking my head.

"We have a babysitter. We can stay in bed all we like."

Will paused, eyes on the door before a sly grin crossed his face. "In that case..."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hi guys, just an update on this story: it's not going to be in time order anymore. There will be some jumping back and forth but I'll try to be as clear as I can. Hope you enjoy and please review. x

* * *

It was a typical day with the family as we all piled into the van. The kids chattered away as Will flicked through our CDs, laughing as he pulled out a top 90s mix.

"They're _classics,"_ I scrunched my face at him. He rested his hand on my knee and squeezed as he put the CD into the player. _Hit Me Baby One More Time_ came on and to my horror and delight, Will started singing as loudly as he could. The kids giggled and encouraged him. Olivia even clapped her hands to the beat. I laughed the entire song until Will jumped up an octave for the ending. As we pulled into the parking bay, I leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, still laughing.

"You're wonderful." He grinned at me, placing a hand on my cheek.

"So are you."

As per every Saturday, we went on our family shopping. Olivia insisted on sitting on her dad's lap despite my attempts to convince her to sit in the trolley but she was a three year old on a mission. As to be expected, the first thing on her mind was candy.

"Daddy, do you want candy? I sure _do_ want candy..." her little sing song voice made me smile. Until we passed the junk food aisle. And then it most certainly did _not_ make me smile.

"But Daddy, I want candy!" Olivia cried out, yanking Will's shirt. Noah mumbled in agreement.

"Ollie, you can't have candy every time you come to the supe-" Will's voice cut through mine as Will reached for Olivia's hand to help her off of his chair.

"You choose any candy you like Ollie. You too Noah, one each." The children ran off happily giggling and I smacked Will on the shoulder.

Will looked up at me, raising a mischievous eyebrow. "What? They're cute." I laughed despite myself as Will raised his arm shakily and pulled my face to him. I happily obliged, kissing him.

"I love you," I whispered and he kissed me again, this time harder.

"Mummy, Daddy, stop it!" Noah cried as he returned, covering his eyes. I giggled through Will's lips and leaned down to look at the seven year old.

"Are we embarrassing you?" I questioned, prodding his sides until he burst into giggles.

Olivia returned with her golden pigtails and about five candies too many - Will didn't even question this, let alone the jumbo sized lolly pop she'd managed to get her hands on. I didn't bother complaining as we strolled through the supermarket and marked each item off the shopping list Noah had written for me in bright red texta.

* * *

It had been a lazy Tuesday when Will brought up the idea of moving. He wasn't ambitious in his proposal, not pushing his luck in trying to convince me to move country. And I supposed it was a fair idea. He did technically live with his parents at the well-ripe age of thirty seven. I leaned into his chest and pulled the sheets to my chin, humming.

"I guess it wouldn't be... the most terrible idea." I said at last. His face visibly lit up.

"Oh, it will be great, Clark! We can have everything we've ever dreamed of." I thought about it: what did Will dream of? A pool, pets, kids? I traced shapes on the sheets and finally, rolled over to face him.

"What have we dreamed of?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He smiled at me, sighing as he leaned into the pillows.

"Imagine a house. Two-storey high, decorated to our heart's content. There's a TV in the living room that's bigger than our bed and a sound system that makes you feel like you're in the movie. The kitchen has the most expensive furnishings we could find and - oh, we have a pool! Not for me," he added, winking. "Just for you and your bikinis. And our bedroom will have a lock on the door and light blocking curtains. We'll have a room each for our kids and a room for our pet cats. And a fence so our cats and babies don't get out."

I laughed hysterically, propping myself up to kiss Will's cheek. "How materialistic."

Will laughed too. "Didn't you hear the part about babies and cats?"

"You mean dogs, right?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. Will gave me an expression that told me he clearly did _not_ mean dogs. "So, how many babies should I expect?"

Will was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed in concentration. "I think two. A boy and a girl. A boy first so he can look after our princess. But if anymore come along... well, we'll happily take them." He shot me a wink and I laughed. I could imagine our life with our two kids - laughter and excitement and school and homework. I wanted my kids to dream.

* * *

It was a bad morning in our new house. Our new, white as white can be toilet, copped quite the blow from me all morning. No foods stayed down and even water made me nauseous. I laid on the sofa, wondering if this would be how I would die. Via vomiting. Will was worried, refusing to leave my side as I went between sleeping and puking. He offered me food and drinks and towels despite knowing how limited use he had of his fingers. It was sweet because I had no doubt that Will would have found a way.

It was a strange few days because I was fine by the time lunch came around. And then I'd wake up the next day with the same problem, unable to leave the sofa without emptying my dinner from the night before. Nathan's daily check ups became more focused on me as this went on every day for a week.

"You know Lou," he said from outside the toilet door as I crawled against the toilet. "If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's a duck." I didn't have the patience for Nathan's games.

"What are you on about?" I growled at him through the door. He laughed - I wanted to punch him but I was unable to control my legs at the moment.

"I think you're experiencing morning sickness."

"Well yes, it _is_ sickness in the morning. Thanks for the expertise Nathan," I grumbled, waiting for my stomach to stop turning.

"No, no... Lou, I mean _pregnancy_ morning sickness." My head shot up as I realised that without a doubt, I had missed two periods. I hadn't thought about it for a second. It had been a luxurious two months without sanitary products and cramps. And now I knew why.

I flushed the toilet and opened the door to meet Nathan's amused face. "I'm pregnant?" I practically croaked the words.

"I've suspected since the third day." He pulled out a pregnancy test box from his bag and squeezed my arm before leaving to help Will out of bed.

Five minutes later, it was confirmed. I was pregnant.

I didn't tell Will or even confirm Nathan's suspicions. I was shocked. Obviously I knew _how_ it had happened but... well, how had it happened? We weren't _overly_ careful but the likelihood of pregnancy had seemed so minimal when Will had been terrified he couldn't even produce sperm anymore. It took me a couple of days to process the information and a couple more days to build up the nerve to tell Will. I was shocked by the news but I was excited. More than excited, I was delighted. I couldn't wait to raise a baby with Will, to get our love with another little person. I told Will five days after I found out myself.

Will had been having a rough day with pain limiting him to the bed for the day. I brought him his meals and drinks, thanking god for a morning sickness free day. And then I laid with him, caressing his cheek as he leaned into my hand.

"How are you feeling?" I asked softly. He grumbled something along the lines of 'shit' in response and I chuckled despite myself, leaning closer to his face. "Will, I have some news that may or may not change that."

Will opened his eyes immediately, the intensity of his blue eyes burning through me. "What's wrong?"

I was going to take my time to tell him, to crack a joke maybe... but no, I couldn't keep it in. "I'm pregnant."

Will's mouth dropped and he stopped blinking for a little longer than expected. "Are you sure?"

"Peed on a stick and all."

"Oh my god," he whispered. "We're going to have a baby?"

"We're going to have a baby!" We laughed together and then I cried which made Will laugh more.

"I love you," he told me, kissing my nose. I snuggled up to his chin and grinned.

"I love you too."

* * *

It was midnight. I was tired and withdrawn and staring at the stars from the balcony in our home, waiting for Olivia's next feeding in an hour. Sleep did not come easily to new mothers. I heard the buzz of Will's chair and turned with my cup of coffee in hand and smiled tiredly.

"Hey, handsome." In all honesty, we both looked like a mess. Will's hair stuck up in directions that defied gravity and his shirt had stains that probably weren't food related. As for me, I'd looked into a mirror and practically had a mental break down due to the bags under my eyes and a gray hair I'd found. I warned Will never to mention it again.

"Hey, gorgeous." He wheeled himself beside me and I poured him a mug of coffee. We watched the stars together in silence, sipping our coffee and thinking about our lives and how simple life had been just five years ago. I preferred it this way.

"Our first date in years," I laughed. He reached for my hand and kissed it.

"You have given me everything I could possibly have hoped for, Clark. I don't know where I'd be without you." The honesty and love in his eyes was overwhelming. I felt tears slide down my cheek.

"Is parenthood a big enough adventure to compare with your old life?" I asked, hastily wiping away the evidence of my tears.

Will laughed as he watched me, squeezing my hand. "Parenthood - hell, _adulthood_ and loving you, has turned out to be the biggest adventure I've ever been on. What a thrill it has been to be married to you."

"You're my best friend, Will. I'm so glad you stayed with me." He kissed me and wiped an escaped tear away.

"I'm glad I stayed too." And our date continued less dramatically, just two best friends who were in love with each other, staring at the stars.


End file.
